


Requiem for Girl

by R_Vienna



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Homestuck Shipping Olympics, Kidswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-25
Updated: 2012-08-25
Packaged: 2017-11-12 20:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/495223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_Vienna/pseuds/R_Vienna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is JADE STRIDER, and you are the alpha girl. You have every time loop under your control. Your partner in crime DAVE HARLEY, however, does not. </p><p>This has always been the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Requiem for Girl

**Author's Note:**

> (Written as part of Team Dave<3Jade's collab round entry for the 2012 Homestuck Shipping Olympics.)
> 
>  
> 
> WOW FRICK I NEED TO ADD A LINK HERE BRB

  
guanineGadfly [GG] started pestering timewarpGypsy [TG]

TG: hey harley  
GG: hi strider!!

Your name is **JADE STRIDER** and you're grinning at the computer like christmas came early. Not that you celebrate christmas, considering you're not even sure you believe in a Jesus Christ almighty, and you've gotten real chummy with the local chinese joint on the corner. You are on a first name basis with Harold, the guy who delivers. He's pretty great, and most definitely not the point of this cake eating grin. You prop your elbows on your cement blocks turned desktop. He replied, and he seemed pretty cheerful about it. It’s been a while since he’s responded to any of your messages, and you hope it’s not because he suddenly realized he hated you, or he didn’t want to chat. You’re almost a hundred percent sure he was simply busy. 

Or his devilcrow, Hertz, was being a piece of shit again. That bird was hell incarnate, it squawked and screeched before teleporting out of your line of sight. The bird knew you couldn't do anything to it through a video chat, but was still borderline psychotic when you drew your flaming katana at it. You’ve told Harley to get rid of it, but he's beyond attached to the thing. 

Ugh. 

TG: so whats up you doing well  
TG: and stuff i mean you were pretty off the radar  
TG: for a while  
TG: john and rose were concerned

You gotta take the spotlight from you, gotta blame the other pair in your quad of friends. It wasn't too much of a lie, John wouldn't stop pestering you about Dave's whereabouts, and Rose was one hundred percent sure you knew where he was. It took hours of well written arguments to convince them otherwise. But now that you're actually talking to Dave, you don't want to make him think you were worried, or anything, because you're not. Not at all. On a scale of one through ten, you were the coolest cucumber at a frosty two. 

Of course you weren't, but you have a thing for appearances. You bite at your lower lip, already chapped from the Houston sun, and split from training sessions with your Grandpa. He was wicked with a rifle, but never aimed a shot at you. It was some sort of honor thing, or something like that. Who really knew for sure. Your Grandfather was a total enigma, with enough hunting trophies to populate several of your fridges. He also didn't realize the advantage he had over your dumb sword. God, you hated your Grandpa sometimes. 

GG: haha really?? it seems like you were the concerned one jade!  
GG: its okay you can admit your anime school girl crush on me  
GG: the harley can take it!!  
GG: :P  
TG: anime school girl crush  
TG: someones been watching their sailor moon  
TG: do you want me to play the part of tuxedo mask and sweep you off your feet  
TG: mysteriously appear and disappear when youre not looking  
TG: i dunno dave that seems pretty lame  
TG: you okay with losing your manly manliness  
GG: can it strider!!  
GG: i am totally manly in fact  
GG: i shed *only* one tear at the ending for that stupid magical girl anime  
GG: your dumb megucas or whatever  
GG: homura was pretty cool though shes my favorite  
TG: here i was hoping you were madly in love with sayaka or something  
TG: homuras kind of hard to beat in the swoonworthy department  
GG: do i smell jealousy?? i think i do  
GG: is it because i find homura to be  
GG: so coooooooool????  
TG: can it harley

You flick your hair back, not that there was much to mess with. Your hair was a black, razor cut monstrosity, the longest layer hit your jawbone, red-tipped bangs skimmed the tops of your eyebrows, and were an annoyance almost always. They had no business of being in your face, especially with the lack of a stable AC. While you wait for Dave to reply, you run a hand through your pixie cut, and thank the deity above for having such a cool, sometimes infuriating Grandpa, who lets you cut your own hair, whenever you feel like it. 

God bless him, really. 

Dave's typing up a storm. You let him type, and browse through the top remixes on FreshJams. Nothing piques your interest, so you fool around on the site for a couple more minutes.

GG: jade??  
GG: yo jade way to leave a lady hanging hahaha  
GG: except not really  
GG: wow lame okay :I

Oops, you missed a couple of messages. You minimize FreshJamz, and go back to Pesterchum to tend to your leading lady. 

Man. 

Not leading human being, just friend, only friend, yes, so friendly. You guys are so friendly, you are the epitome of--who the fuck are you kidding, certainly not yourself. You and Harley go way back when, you guys met on some internet forum, and he thought your sick jams were “dope.” You immediately led him onto the road of remixing, and to be honest, he surprised you with today’s mix. It’s probably his best. A slow beat, a steady rhythm, he had total control over the music, and you were kind of jealous. 

Just a little bit. 

But afters years of chatting, after years of midnight conversations (or midday for him, he lives in the middle of god forsaken nowhere), and a shared fondness for shitty jokes, the feelings you swore you stuffed in the bottom of your neocortex, where the rest of your logical functions resided, grew and twisted into something you called more than obvious platonic friendship.

Man, this was stupid. Your fingers type out a short reply, couldn't keep him waiting anymore, and you weren't in the mood of wading through a journey of introspection. You had John for that. He would be thrilled with the idea of getting into your sweetass brain.

That was not going to happen anytime soon, and you'd rather be dead than allow John "I will burn the heart out of you, and tell you exactly what's wrong with it" Lalonde to bring you onto his sofa of psychoanalysis.

TG: sorry bout that mam  
TG: sir  
TG: whatever  


You stare at your computer screen for a couple of seconds, trying to analyze what was up. You fail miserably, and place your chin on your hands, and let out a sigh. Dave's ahead of you, it seems. 

GG: sorry um  
TG: its fine im just kind of blinded from how much green text there is its kind of hilarious  
TG: yup thats all  
TG: dont worry harley youre not at fault here  
TG: i dont think theres ever a time youre at fault  
TG: shit  
TG: i mean  
TG: no yeah thats what i mean  
GG: well gee thanks jade! that certainly makes this guy blush :I  
TG: i dont mean it in a bad way  
TG: youre the coolest of kids  
TG: so coooool even  
GG: heh

And that's the last conversation you have with jungle gentleman Dave Harley. 

At least, until the game started. 

==> Be Dave

Hell. Fucking. No. That’s not something that can happen right now. **DAVE HARLEY** is terribly busy right now, oh wait. That's you, and...well, you're chasing a crow through a pyramid, and that’s a matter of terrible importance. Terrible timing, terrible timing, you’ve got the shittiest timing in the South Pacific, or wherever you are. The Medium is treacherous when it comes to locale, and Land of Heat and Frogs doesn’t offer any respite. You’re being assaulted from all sides, J-Stri’s been pestering you ever since you entered, Egbert thinks yelling into her voice-to-text apparatus is a good idea (all you get from her is jumbled nonsense, you got to tell her to upgrade, and get a fancy computer like everyone else), and Lalonde is dropping his typical snarky comments. He’s particularly displeased with your outfit choice: a white suit with lime green trimming, and a tie of the same color. John thinks white doesn’t look good on an “ Incredibly pale male specimen, especially with the color green. Dear god, Dave, you are going to blind Jade when she meets you.” 

You get the point. Lalonde’s right, as always. You do not want to blind the already visionally impaired girl. 

But still. You’re getting anxious. She hasn’t shown up yet, and she’s always on time. It’s her deal, apparently, heroes of Time have domain over numbers, and chronology, and it’s all too weird for you to deal with. Space is nicer, it’s stable, with planes of energy and black holes, and the subject matter is familiar. You’re in your niche. She is in hers. 

It’s four thirteen when she arrives, according to the broken pocket watch you carry around with you. Jade Strider is all sharp angles, and jutted bones, her skin is caramel, and her eyes are mahogany, bright red muted behind round, oversized ebony shades. You adjust your shirt collar, and let out a cough. Was it getting hot? God damn that island weather. Medium weather. Whatever. When she catches your gaze, her lips contort into the silliest excuse of a grin, a one-pixel smile, and she slowly makes her way towards you. Every step is pre-planned, she’s a dancing to an imaginary song, and you find her mesmerizing. 

Her black hair is cropped short, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen her wear it long. 

“Hey.” Her mouth is painted blood red, she's slouching under her own featherweight frame. She's the picture of faux slack, and you find it endearing. 

“Hello, Miss Strider.” You offer her a chivalrous grin, and bow mockingly, taking her right hand in your left. Her stoic expression flickers into something more comical, eyes widen for a millisecond before returning to their permanent squint. She’s perfectly still when you brush your lips against her skin. Her arm drops to her side, and she grants you a lopsided smile. 

“I thought we were here to catch frogs,” she says, her ‘o’s stand out in a sea of cleverly combined letters and phrases. She drawls her vowels. 

You tuck this piece of information in the back of your mind. Strider’s right. You’re here to catch frogs. 

“Lead the way, J-Stri.” You gesture around the general area, you’re standing on white sand, and the sky is the color of bloody oranges. LOHAF is a wicked contradiction, and the contrast is making your head hurt. Jade’s unfazed, perpetually calm, and collected, even when she falls into a lake, face first, latching onto your blonde rattail for support, taking you down with her. You’re both soaking wet in grimy, plankton-infested liquid, the water is up to your chest when you stand up, and she’s scowling at everything, and you’re trying your damned hardest not to laugh. 

You immediately sober up when Jade resurfaces, holding your forty-inch ex-rattail in her hand. You feel for the missing locks of hair, and realize, too late, that your head is now the owner of a choppy, blonde hairdo. 

Your vocal chords suddenly lose their ability to speak coherently. You are a glass case of emotions, you are blubbering, and mumbling, and Jade quirks her pierced brow at you, and tilts her head to the side. The girl looked down at her hand, lemon yellow strands curled around her fingers. 

Jade let out what sounded like the lovechild of a yelp, and a scream, throwing the incriminating piece of evidence to the side. It landed on the water’s surface, and began to drift away. 

“That didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.” You make the comment with the intention of being snarky, but it comes out as very hurt. Jade gives you an apologetic glance, and runs a hand through barely there hair. 

“Sorry, Dave. I know how much your dumbass rattail meant to you.” 

She never liked it, you knew that. She was probably laughing under that steely exterior. It’s then that you notice what she’s wearing. A short red dress, strapless. There’s black tulle underneath the main skirt, but it’s not like you’re looking there. From this view, her shoulder blades pop, and you unconsciously lick your lips. Strider fidgeted in her frock, and your smile falters. She probably felt uncomfortable. From your knowledge, and late night conversations, Jade wasn’t really a dress, or skirt, or anything remotely in that category, kind of person. 

You felt a pang of sympathy. Jade was shaking prettily in her tafetta and velveteen nightmare, and was wading out of the water. She plopped onto the shoreline, and stared up at the sky. You followed her, and offered your hand. She rolled her eyes, and took it, anyway. Once you were both up, the quest continued. 

Somewhere along the way, somewhere in between a pale blue frog, and a luminescent gold, you realized the obvious. Your finger tips brushed against her skin, her calloused hands slackened for a millisecond, and you took the bait, hook line and sinker. Your fingers twined with heres, and Jade didn't move a muscle. 

But your heart was beating out a samba, every single sense on hyperdrive. The penny dropped. 

You were falling madly in love with Jade Strider. 

==> Dave: Be Jade

Fine. You’re Jade now. Happy? 

After your run in with the lake, everything with involving a certain blonde male was electric. When he took your hand, you felt the ground shake, and your sunglasses could only do so much against the powers of ~love~, or whatever adolescent youths called it. 

This was stupid. 

Really stupid. Like his hair. God bless his impromptu haircut, you weren’t sure how much longer you could take staring at the back of his head, knowing there was a monster back there. 

You’re really good at changing the subject. It’s always been one of your greatest traits. Besides killing imps. Half-sword in hand, you and Harley are unstoppable, his sharpshooting skills were to die for, because well, everything he shot at tended to die. 

You guys made a great team. If you wanted too, you guys would be better than John Lalonde and Rose Egbert. 

Speaking of whom, Egbert’s been pestering you like crazy, and you haven’t had the chance to read her messages. You should soon, but it was kind of hard to. You were having loads of fun. 

Yes, this was pretty fun. After successfully decapitating another imp, while Dave collected the fallen grist, you cracked a smile. Today was a good day. 

A very good day. 

“J-Stri, holy shit, look out!” 

You turned around, and drew your sword against a crackling being of nightmares, and green light. A scarred face, with avian features: a hooked beak and beady eyes, led to a charred body, arms licked by flames, and legs brought to life by metal rods. Broken wings kept it aloft, and the creature snarled. His sword was made of obsidian, and your half-shit catastrophe was barely holding itself together. 

“Jack.” 

You couldn’t afford to say anymore, you were sprinting through time streams to get the upper hand. Jade after Jade slashed and hacked away at the carapace turned monster, while Dave traded in his hunting rifle for something with more firepower. An assault rifle sprayed bronze bullets across the field, and you screamed a curse, telling Harley to aim that piece of shit. He complied, and the battle continued. 

Land of Heat and Frogs was up in flames, you and Harley were back to back, while Jack Noir, now sporting Hertz’s crow-like appearance, multiplied and fought back, with intention to kill. Dave aimed, and fired repeatedly, never stopping unless it was to reload, and you had about twenty copies running around, two guarding the frogs, four saving consorts, and fourteen fighting the behemoth. 

It was an uphill struggle, you were sure of your failure until Dave started shouting about fraymotifs, and things like “strider this is our only chance!!”, and “you gotta trust me on this one!!” that you let the tide wash over him. You were stretching yourself thin, and this wasn’t going to end well. Unleashing the Adagio Redshift was your only hope. 

“All right, Dave. Let’s do this.” 

***

Being too hopeful would be your downfall. Despite the damage Redshift inflicted on Jack, his first guardian powers would overthrow any chance of survival. He was cunning, conniving, and just smarter than you. 

He was so goddamn poetic sometimes. Of course Jack turned Hertz Noir wouldn’t kill you. No, not him. 

“Oh my god, Jade!” 

Dave Harley dropped his rifle, and ran toward your bleeding, soon to be corpse. Bullet holes led way to gushers of crimson, and your special occasion dress was fit for a funeral. 

Yeah. Great day today.  


==> [S] Jade Strider: Say Goodbye


End file.
